Maybe It's a Good Thing
by SixWeeks
Summary: Satan likes to spend most of his free time topside. At first, he finds humans infuriating. After a while, he finds that only some humans are infuriating. Eventually, he finds himself desperately attached to one in particular. A MyMusicShow fic for Satern 2
1. Just a Hobby

Satan had a hobby. He liked to interact with the humans that were still alive in a positive way. Of course, things didn't always go to plan, and sometimes someone wound up with a pitchfork in their chest, but honestly. He's Satan. What exactly do you expect from him?

Either way, his hobby of working human jobs for fun gave him a reason to spend more time topside. So all in all it was a fairly satisfying was of running his life. He could show up to work whenever he was bored, stab his coworkers whenever he felt like it, and get a better feel for all the people he was supposed to be luring into hell.

Or something like that.

To be honest, running hell was hella boring. The convincing of evil, killing, and general causing of problems part was great, but actually being in hell?

Yawn.

Once a soul got to hell, there was nothing left to do with it. Just, the whole eternal damnation thing, which, once it was set up, didn't really require that much attention. Just the occasional new monster or torture device to mix things up whenever people were getting a little too comfortable down there.

So, to keep things interesting, he spent most of his time harassing demons, playing poker (humans were funny when they lost, which they always did. What, did you expect him to play fair, too?) , and bossing people around.

Actually, in the past few months or so, Satan had found a sort of sanctuary at the small production company of MyMusic. No one there actually seemed to care when he showed up. Like, at all. Nor did they care so much that some part of their company was always in chaos. In fact, no one there seems to care much about anything, except maybe for getting their work done. Whatever sort of work it was that they did. Who even actually knows. However, because of all this, MyMusic was a natural choice for someone with horns literally coming out of their forehead to hang out. No one cared, or even noticed most of the time when he showed up, or paid any mind to what he did.

The only issue he had with MyMusic was that sometimes he _wanted_ people to mind him.

Bossman Creepy-Stache there had no interest in hiring him, which was fine with him. He'd just show up and do things anyway. The issue was that no one really listened to him. Every suggestion he made? "Oh wow, did you just here that?" "It's not like we're in the room with _Satan_ or anything!" Ignored.

Bossing people around and getting what he wanted was half of the fun of playing around topside. Yeah, being treated like any other guy was pretty cool, but if he wasn't getting anything out of it either, what was the point?

And the MyMusic staffer who was the _worst_ at acknowledging him out of _everyone_?

Intern 2.

Intern 2, who probably didn't even have an actual name. Intern 2, who couldn't give less of a fuck about how much work he was given, just so long as you didn't try to pull him away from it. Every time Satan tried to distract him, or convince him to punch Captain Deuce-Stache in the face for being a _deuce_, the most he'd ever get in response is a "Go away, Satan, I'm working."

Which was disturbing to him, because whenever Intern What-Is-Matching-Anyway _did_ pay attention to him, it always seemed like he was really interested. Which, of course he was. He was talking to Satan, and it really doesn't get any more interesting than that. It was just… troublesome to him that Intern 2 could be so invested in what he was saying one moment, and not give a crap two seconds later. Normally such a thing could be brushed off as some kind of attention or stress disorder, but whenever the company's scarf-wearing CEO wanted something, it was drop everything and bend to his will. And it's not like Satan was jealous. It was just the simple matter that if it anyone's will the staff should be worried about carrying out, it should be his. Satan's. The prince of Hell. Your worst nightmare. Capable of bearing immeasurable destruction. A damner of souls. Definitely more worthy of obedience than some sort of doofnugget that dressed like a homeless man on purpose.

Right?

_Right?_

He decided to take special interest in the matter. Just in case.


	2. Working

Intern 2 was tapping away at his keyboard when he felt a rush of heat and a sound like a small explosion behind him.

He ignored it.

"Hey… Argyle…"

Intern 2 cringed at the terrible nickname. Why on earth Satan just _refused_ to call people by their actual name was beyond him.

"Yes?"

"Hey, yeah. See, um…" Satan paused, as if trying to think of the right words to say. "I have this really cool idea for the next music video, and I wanted to run it by you before I-"

"Can this wait? I'm working." Intern 2 cut him off nonchalantly. This funds database was due to Indie by 3 o'clock sharp, and it was already 2:15.

Instead of a response, he heard an agitated growl behind him, and felt the familiar burst of flames warm the back of his computer chair.

Well then. Whatever that meant.

Author's note: This part is really short! But the chapters will start to get longer as the story develops, I promise. Also, Satern 2. It's gonna happen.


	3. A New Idea

Satan sat on the second floor balcony of MyMusic's office, looking at all of the employees puttering around below. They were all working.

Or, at least, doing something relevant enough to the company that their smelly hobo-boss paid them for it.

He growled again. It was the third time this week he had tried to get Intern 2 to display some form of obedience to him. Or, acknowledge his wishes at all, really; and all three times he'd been completely disregarded.

Sure, it was only Tuesday, but for bombass Satan, dark lord of hell, who was _not_ to be disregarded, the whole situation was very… irking.

The door the CEO office flew open, hitting and deepening an already present impression in the wall. The mousy haired man that was these people's slave driver strolled out, and walked straight up to Nerd Do-Well's shared desk.

He held his hand out expectantly, and the mismatched intern stood, handing over a manila folder stuffed to the brim with what looked like spreadsheets.

It was exactly 3:00 pm.

Huh.

"Everything's there, and if you-"

"Shut up, Intern 2!" Pedostache shouted, and the anxious looking intern shut up immediately.

…Huh.

Scarf-Freak flipped through the file for a while, turning all of the pages individually and raising a hand to keep his unpaid labor in place when he moved to sit back down. He eventually closed the file, tucked it under his arm, and stared down the dirty blonde.

"_Now_ speak."

"Well, um, everything should be there, and I did any extra calculations that I thought you might want ahead of time. If anything's wrong in there, I'll fix it right away."

_ …Huh._

"Good." He turned and stalked off before pausing in front of his office, and turned around. "Sit down! Get back to work! Dammit, Intern 2!"

By direct order, the Intern who hadn't even realized that he'd been frozen in spot jumped back to life to do just that.

_ Hmm…_

So was that it, then? Was the secret to a human's solemn obedience to just… boss them around? Shout a lot? That didn't quite seem like obedience to him, but humans were weak and fragile minded things, so it wasn't an altogether shocking idea.

Well, as Bossman of _hell_, if there was one thing he could do well, it was boss people around.

Get it?

_ Boss?_

Boss, because he's the Bossman?

Fuck you, he's quality humor.


End file.
